


Meet Me Halfway

by Amaranthine_Siren



Category: McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Camping, Fluff, M/M, RPF, WIP, never gonna get completed now, so have it i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 11:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaranthine_Siren/pseuds/Amaranthine_Siren
Summary: “Seventeen hundred and fifty eight, to be exact,” Nick groaned. “Seventeen hundred and fifty eight stupid miles.”“It's bullshit,” Griffin agreed.





	Meet Me Halfway

**Author's Note:**

> The boys go on a camping trip together.
> 
> It's RPF. Standard disclaimer applies.
> 
> I know no one wants or needs this right now, possibly ever again. But I'm tired of looking at it, and I spent a long time working on it, so I'm setting it free. Enjoy? I guess? *shrug*

_ tweeeeeee tweeeeeee _

_ dee-DEE-dee-DEE-dee-DEEEEE _

_ tweeeeeee tweeeeeee _

_ dee-DEE-dee-DEE-dee-DEEEEE _

_ tweeeeeee tweee-- _

Nick drifted slowly awake to the sound of chirping. He could have sworn he hadn’t set an alarm before falling asleep. Damn. He had been having a nice dream too - he was playing Sonic, barrelling over rolling green hills in a blue blur. Or maybe he WAS Sonic? Dreams were weird for him, always had been - he had a hard time telling if he was in first or third person sometimes.

_ tweeeeeee tweeeeeee _

_ DEEDEEDEE-- _

Groaning quietly, he flailed his arm out to his side, trying to grab his phone and silence it without fully waking. Instead of finding a small square of glass and metal, his palm connected with something soft and warm, a muffled slapping sound quickly followed by a mumbled “the fuck, dude?”

Nick peeked open an eye to see Griffin’s frowning face a few inches from his own. “Wha’ you hit me for?” Griffin said sleepily, rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other grasping Nick's hand where it rested on his stomach and lifting it off.

_ dee-DEE-dee-DEE-dee-DEEEEE _

“Trying to shut off my alarm,” Nick answered, already realizing his mistake as the words were leaving his lips.

Griffin giggled quietly, a hand over his mouth. “Nerd.”

“Shuddup. I didn't remember I’m somewhere where actual birds are chirping - I’m not used to it, okay?” He sat up and stretched his arms above his head, hands scraping against the nylon tent roof above them.

Griffin yawned and felt around until he found his glasses and slid them on, then folded his arms behind his head in a relaxed pose. “What time is it? Feels early.”

“I could tell you if I had my phone, but no, I have fuckin…. BIRDS,” Nick scoffed, and Griffin chuckled again. “Sorry I hit ya.”

“You can make it up to me by getting the fire going and making some coffee?” Griffin said sweetly, poking a knee out from under the sleeping bag and nudging it against Nick’s leg.

Nick gave an exaggerated sigh and then smiled, unzipping the tent door and crawling out into the dim early morning light. The rock wren that was perched on a nearby saguaro cactus let out a shrill DEEDEEDEE and flew off.

“HOW IS IT SO COLD OUT HERE?” Griffin heard him gripe from outside, followed by the thud of a couple of logs into their fire pit.

“It’s NATURE, Nicolas! Smell that fresh clean morning air!!!” he called out the tent door, and heard Nick groan in reply.

~

The camping trip had been Griffin’s idea. On a late night Skype call, they were bemoaning how they only ever got to see each other at conventions and work-related trips, and how much it sucked to be 1700 miles away from each other.

“Seventeen hundred and fifty eight, to be exact,” Nick groaned. “Seventeen hundred and fifty eight stupid miles.”

“It's bullshit,” Griffin agreed. “I hate that we only get to see each other two or three times a year. I need hang time with my bro! I wanna like, go places together! Not just the same ones in LA or NYC that we always go.”

“YEAH!” Nick said excitedly. “Like, just being able to, I dunno, go somewhere touristy together, like a fuckin… Route 66 road trip or some shit. Hell, even just pitching a tent - shut up,” he said to Griffin’s quiet giggle, “Or laying out under the stars or something. It’d be nice to hang, without having to deal with… life stuff.”

Griffin opened up a new tab and did a quick search. “Looks like the halfway point between SF and Austin is… Arizona. Huh.” Nick heard more typing. “There’s a bunch of state parks. Pretty mountains. Wildflowers. Stars to look at at night…

“When’s the next time you can take vacation? Flights look pretty cheap.”

~

As they drove deeper into the desert, fewer cars passed them by. Griffin was driving, tapping his fingers on the wheel, quietly singing along with the Carly Rae Jepsen his phone was supplying to the car stereo. Every once in awhile, he would turn to Nick and enthusiastically sing a chorus at him, to which Nick would roll his eyes playfully, smiling.

Nick was sprawled in the passenger seat, fiddling with his phone, bouncing one knee nervously. He had attempted to take a few pictures of the scenery that rolled past, but he was unsatisfied with the results, and had resorted to using the visor mirror to try to take some selfies. 

Griffin snorted with laughter as he saw Nick winking and pouting out of the corner of his eye. “Gram it up, bud. No internet where we're going. Just you, me, a sprawling sky, some beautiful montañas --”

“And coyotes and rattlesnakes and fuckin… scorpions probably,” Nick continued.

“Pssshhhh. I deal with scorps on the REG,” Griffin said proudly. “I'll protect you. Sweet summer child.” He reached over and patted Nick's head, ruffling his hair mid-selfie.

They’d chosen a state park because neither of them could pass up the idea of camping in a place called the Superstition Wilderness. “I mean, it sounds like right out of TAZ. We have to,” Nick announced, and Griffin declared “Roll for initiative!” as he booked their campsite. 

They met at the airport and rented a small SUV. A trip to a local camping store later, and they were outfitted with a tent and some lightweight sleeping bags, and all the other necessary accoutrements they needed for a few days of (hopefully) relaxing downtime.

They reached their destination in the early evening. There were surprisingly few other tents or RVs around, and their little site was relatively private. Griffin guessed that it was because the late spring/early summer temperatures were still pretty chilly at night, and only inexperienced campers such as them were willing to rough it out during the cold desert nights, even if the daytime temps were in the mid eighties.

They quickly set up their tent and threw down a blanket just in time to sit back and have a couple beers, as they watched the sky before them turn a dusty pink, then a glowing orange, and finally a dark purplish red that faded into bluish black as the sun disappeared below the horizon.

Neither of them had spoken for the last fifteen minutes or so, but as the sun dropped below the mountains in the distance, Nick let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. “Holy fuck, dude. That was…”

“Beautiful,” Griffin finished. He turned to Nick, his lips upturned in the biggest smile Nick had ever seen from him. “This was the best idea ever.”

~

“This was the worst idea ever!” Nick swore, kicking sand in the direction of the fire pit. He'd been struggling for a couple of minutes to get the coals from the night before to light up again, but he was getting nowhere. And without the sun fully risen yet, it was still chilly. His teeth were chattering, and he stomped his feet a few times to keep warm, goosebumps covering his bare arms and legs.

He heard the rustling of the tent as Griffin climbed out behind him. “I don't smell coffee, what's going on out here, my dude?”

“This stupid fuckin… I'm having fire troubs.”

Griffin patted him on the shoulder, then noticed the chill of Nick's skin. “Damn, you're cold!”

“Yeah, no sh-shit, because no fire,” Nick muttered, angrily poking at the ashes with a stick.

Griffin reached into the tent and grabbed a flannel shirt, handing it to Nick. “Standing out here in a tank top and boxers isn't helping either. Here, get warm. I'll deal with the fire.”

He knelt down, surveying the smoldering embers. “You can't - Nick, you can't just throw a log on there, it's not gonna - oh geez. Okay, lemme -” He trailed off as he stooped down and removed the two logs Nick had thrown into the pit, grabbing some smaller brush and sticks, fully Boy Scouting it up.

Nick slipped the oversized flannel shirt on, and wrapped his arms around himself. The fabric felt so good, warm from being in the tent with them, well-worn and soft against his skin. He sat outside the tent on their throw blanket, knees pulled up to his chin, and wrapped the shirt around his legs as well.

With a couple minutes of careful tending and feeding small bits of kindling to the embers, Griffin had enough of a fire going to place one of the larger logs back atop the flames. “There we go! See? Nothing to it,” he declared, turning to see Nick hurriedly hiding his phone behind his back.

“What?” Nick asked innocently, giving a smile, squinting up at Griffin.

“I saw that. You're not sneaky. At all.”

“I was taking a picture of my big strong competent man, building a fire for me,” Nick teased, wrapping the shirt tighter around himself.

Griffin adjusted his glasses with one hand nervously. “It's just - it just takes practice, that's all. And patience,” he sputtered, turning away, digging through their belongings. “Where's that coffeepot?”

~

Once they had breakfast and coffee, they decided to hike out into the foothills. Griffin dropped a GPS pin to mark their campsite on the map on his phone, and loaded up his backpack with water and snacks. Nick grabbed his small backpack as well, which contained his instant camera and a small manual SLR. He slid his phone into his front pocket as well. 

“I can't believe you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt, Nicolas. This is what you hike in?”

“Well, I generally don't? Hike? But yeah. It's what I'm comfortable in. I don't have a wardrobe of khakis and polos to choose from.”

“Mock me now, but when the sun is at its peak and your shrink-to-fits are constricting all blood flow to your brain, I don't wanna hear about it.”

“You may have to mount a rescue. Any scissors in that first aid kit?”

“I have a Swiss army knife. We're good.”

“Christ, you ARE a Boy Scout, aren't you.”

“I'm a good, good survival boy, yeah, for sure.”

Before they set out, Nick removed a case from his pack and slipped on a pair of glasses. Griffin looked surprised but didn't say anything. 

Nick noticed his expression and shrugged. “I didn't want to have to fuck with contacts in the desert.”

“I get that,” Griffin agreed, then softly added, “They look nice.” Nick looked up over the top of the lenses, an eyebrow raised. “It's a good look!” Griffin continued.

“Thanks.” Nick smiled up at him, and Griffin's cheeks reddened in response as he looked away quickly, slinging his pack onto his shoulders. 

“Onward, toward Adventure!” he cried, pointing at the vista in the distance.

“Nerd,” Nick chuckled in reply.

It was still mid morning, the sun ascending in the sky, but the chill was already starting to burn out of the air. Nick had kept the flannel shirt on over his t-shirt at first, but had since removed it and tied it around his waist. 

They didn't talk much, didn't feel the need to. The enjoyment of the scenery around them was enough. Griffin led their way through the winding trails and foothills, using the map on his phone to guide them, and kept an eye out for snakes and dangers. Nick stopped often, switching between his SLR for shots of the landscape, and his phone for close-ups of the flame orange Mexican gold poppies and bright violet desert lupines.

As they twisted through the brush, they came upon a cave entrance, and stopped for water and granola bars under the shaded overhang of its mouth. “It's so quiet here,” Nick remarked.

“Yeah, we haven't seen anyone else this whole time, huh. It's like… it feels weird, but also good? Like this whole place is just for us.” Griffin stopped, looking away awkwardly.

Nick passed the water bottle back to him, his fingers brushing briefly against the back of Griffin's hand. When Griffin looked up, Nick said, “I like it. Just us.” His heart thumped erratically in his chest as Griffin smiled at him.

As they packed up their things to head back toward camp, Nick got out his instant camera and framed a shot of Griffin, the cave opening in the background, the angle of the sun lighting him from behind. His silhouette seemed surrounded by a halo of fire. Nick took the shot, his breath caught in his throat.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

“Hmm?” Griffin said, shouldering his pack and turning to face him.

“I said it's beautiful,” Nick answered, motioning around them. Griffin smiled and nodded. Nick slipped the camera back into his bag, along with the developing photo.

~

As the sun set in the distance, swirls of sparks spiraled up into the air from their campfire as Nick prodded the coals absentmindedly with a stick. They'd had a traditional cookout meal of hot dogs grilled on skewers, and Griffin had insisted on s’mores as well. 

“I will settle for nothing less than the full camping experience, Nicolas. Melty and sticky and sweet and perfect.” He grinned at Nick as he licked melted chocolate and marshmallow residue from his fingertips. 

Nick was thankful for the darkness to hide his burning cheeks, as he turned away and reached into his pack for his instant camera. He managed to capture Griffin in a perfect moment: head back, eyes closed, a look of ecstasy on his face as he licked a bit of marshmallow off his index finger.

As the photo ejected, Griffin's eyes snapped open in surprise at the sound. “Ooh, lemme see!” He reached out sticky fingers for the picture, which Nick held aloft behind himself.

“Nope, it's not developed yet, there's nothing to see. It'll be a surprise later.” He tucked it back into his bag with the camera. “Besides, your hands are all sticky.”

Griffin waggled his eyebrows at Nick, grinning. “YEAH they are.”

“Gross, dude.”

“You  _ love _ it. Here, marshmallow, eat.” Griffin plucked a melted bit of fluff from his skewer and reached out to Nick. “It's so warm and melty, and it tastes so gooooooood.”

Nick looked down at Griffin's hand, and before he could lose his nerve, he leaned down and sucked the gooey melted sugar into his mouth - along with Griffin's index finger. As his lips closed around it, his eyes flicked up to Griffin.

His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, and Nick could see a puff of steam escape his lips into the cooling night air as he huffed in surprise at the feel of Nick's lips around his finger.

Nick licked the marshmallow from Griffin's skin, tasting the sugar, the charred smoke on his skin, the salt of sweat underneath it. It mingled into ambrosia on his tongue, forming a memory in his mind, a taste he'd forever associate with Griffin.

“Nick,” Griffin said softly.

It was enough to bring Nick back to himself. He reached out to grasp Griffin's hand, and removed his finger from his mouth with a moist pop.

“Want another beer? I'm getting another beer,” Nick announced, standing to move to the other side of the tent, putting the large burning fire between them. Not that he needed it - he was already melting inside. What the fuck was happening here?

“Uhhh, yeah. Yeah, I'll take one,” Griffin called. Nick tried not to hear the way the words quivered as he spoke.

Nick returned with two dripping cold beer cans from the cooler, and handed one to Griffin, who took it gingerly, making sure to avoid brushing Nick's fingers with his own. He gave a small nod of thanks and popped the top, taking a large gulp.

Nick sat down again on their blanket, pressing his beer can to first one cheek, then the other, and finally his forehead, feeling the cold condensation run down his face. After a moment he lowered the can and popped it open, taking a drink. As he set it down beside him, he felt Griffin watching him, and looked up. “Hmm?” he murmured.

Griffin blinked a couple times, and reached up toward Nick's face with one hand. Nick leaned away at first, but Griffin said quietly, “There's some… Here, hold still.”

Griffin's thumb gently grazed over his cheekbones, first one then the other, a featherlight touch that gave Nick a tiny shiver that he struggled to contain. What was he doing? What were they doing?

Griffin pulled away, showing Nick his thumb. “Ashes, from the fire. Looked like eyeliner running down your cheeks. I got it.” Sure enough, he could see the black smudge of ash on Griffin's thumb in the glow of the firelight.

“Oh. Th-thanks,” Nick stuttered, looking away into the flames, drinking deeply from his beer, his stomach fluttering nervously.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and Nick could feel the tension in the air between them. He furtively glanced at Griffin a couple times out of the corner of his eye. Griffin had laid back, resting on his elbows, his head leaned back to stare up at the stars.

“Mmmm. I'm going to bed,” he finally announced, turning to crawl toward the tent opening.

“Huh? Yeah, okay. I'll be in in a minute,” Griffin replied quietly, lifting his beer and finishing it off.

Nick sat down on his side of the tent, and slipped his phone out of his pocket, setting it aside. He kicked off his shoes and nestled them in the corner and slid his jeans down hurriedly. For some reason, he anticipated that Griffin would enter the tent while he was getting undressed, but it didn't happen. He pulled off his tee and slid into the tank top he slept in, and lay atop his sleeping bag. 

Although the temperature was already dropping outside, he still felt overheated from the campfire. Or at least, that's what he told himself. He took a deep drink from his water bottle, and curled on his side, trying to drift off to sleep before Griffin joined him.

He dozed for a bit, could have been just minutes, he wasn't sure. He heard Griffin stirring outside, using the camp shovel to bank the fire down for the night, putting away their empty beer cans and cleaning up from dinner. Eventually he heard Griffin crawl into the tent beside him, and the rustle of clothing as he changed into his sleepwear. He heard the quiet click of Griffin removing his glasses and setting them aside, and then a deep sigh as he settled down to sleep.

~

“Jesus Christ!” Nick jerked awake at the sound, his entire body frozen in fear. He didn't move, barely breathed, trying to remain as still as he could.

“Griffin.  _ Griffin! _ ” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Griffin, wake up. Did you hear that?”

He thought maybe he'd dreamt it, but he heard it again, unmistakable. A howl, distant but very real.

He wasn't dreaming, he was fully awake - and freezing, he realized. He'd fallen asleep atop his sleeping bag rather than in it, and the desert night was cold as fuck. As soon as he realized how cold he was, he began shaking and couldn't stop. 

“Nick?” Griffin mumbled sleepily. “What is it?”

“F-f-fuckin coyote out there, scared the f-fuck outta me. J-jesus.”

“It's fine, we're fine in here. It won't bother us. Are you -” Griffin reached out blindly but jerked his hand back after making contact with Nick's bare leg. “You're freezing! Holy shit. Here - c’mere.” Griffin unzipped his sleeping bag and motioned for Nick to come closer.

Nick just stared blankly at him. “Wh-what?”

“Oh c'mon, you're gonna get sick, it's too cold out here, you need to warm up.”

“I'll j-just put my cl-clothes back on,” Nick muttered, feeling around in the dark for his pants.

“That won't help warm you up, you need body heat. Don't be so stubborn, I know what I'm talking about. Survival boy, remember?”

Griffin unzipped his sleeping bag fully and laid it flat across the floor of the tent, and motioned for Nick to move in next to him. “C'mon, we'll lay on top of one and use the other to cover us. Scoot over here.”

Nick finally obliged, and as soon as he was off his own sleeping bag, Griffin pulled it over to them and unzipped it as well. Working by feel, he managed to thread the zippers of the two bags together into one large sleeping bag with room enough for them both.

“See? Better already, huh?” He gently tugged the sleeping bag around Nick's shoulders, and patted his pillow. “C'mon, go back to sleep.”

Nick was too cold to argue. He laid back down, curling up with his back to Griffin. Griffin was right, he could already feel the warmth pouring off Griffin's body and filling the space between them in the sleeping bag, and soon enough he stopped shaking and began to drift off.

“Griffin?”

“Yeah?” Griffin answered. He didn't sound tired at all.

“Thanks,” he murmured back sleepily.

“Of course, bud. Gnite.”

~

Nick drifted awake slowly. He was warm and comfortable, and there weren't any chirping birds to startle him from his sleep this time. He sighed and hugged his pillow tighter. And heard it sigh back. Wait, what?

He peeked open one eye, and froze. He wasn't hugging his pillow.

In the night, once he had warmed up and settled back to sleep, he had evidently rolled over toward Griffin, and was presently lying against him, one arm curled around his midsection, their legs entangled, his head nestled in the crook of Griffin's shoulder.

He felt like a deer in headlights. He didn't want to move. For one thing, he didn't want to wake Griffin. Didn't want to have to face the awkwardness that would follow once his friend realized their situation.

But also, he didn't want to move because even though this was weird and uncomfortable, at the same time… it wasn't? He could feel his mind arguing that this was fucked up, that they were friends, that friends didn't curl around each other and share a sleeping bag and  _ cuddle _ \- but even while thinking those things, he felt so good like this. He wanted to nuzzle closer to Griffin, squeeze him tighter, feel him hug back…

He closed his eyes again and let out a deep measured breath. He gave an experimental squeeze of his arm across Griffin's chest, and as he did, he felt Griffin's other arm wrap around his shoulders and hug him.

“Hey,” Griffin whispered.

“Hey,” Nick whispered back.

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” Nick replied, starting to disentangle himself, but Griffin stilled him by squeezing his shoulder.

“I'll get it, stay here. Too cold out there.” Griffin wriggled out of the sleeping bag, tucking it back in around Nick after climbing out. “Back in a bit.” He climbed out of the tent, closing the door behind him.

Nick lay back, hugging the warm sleeping bag against himself. He was so confused. On the one hand, nothing  _ too _ unusual had happened between them. Not really. They were close friends, always had been, since the day they first finally met in person. Neither of them had ever shied away from physical contact with each other. The relationship they shared was probably the most intimate he had ever had with someone who wasn't a lover…

Nick chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. So why did what was happening now feel different? Was it? Was it any different really from the way they'd always been with each other? Or was it simply that here, in this place where it was just the two of them, all the guards they'd unknowingly held in place between them, the way they acted around others, were all falling away. And now they were free to be who they really wanted to be? Maybe.

The door unzipped and Griffin crawled back in, holding a thermos, two mugs, and a package of donuts he'd retrieved from their food supplies in the car.

“Breakfast in bed? You shouldn't have.” Nick smiled up at him, folding back the sleeping bag so Griffin could climb back in.

“Nothing's too good for my man,” Griffin replied, sliding in next to him. “Just watch the crumbs. You get one crumb in here, and I'll let you freeze next time.”

Nick felt the worry that had been gripping his chest let loose. “Griffin?” he said softly.

Griffin looked up from the mug of coffee he was pouring. “Yeah?”

“I'm… I'm so glad we're here. I'm glad you're here. This is… I'm just… I'm just real happy,” he rambled. He felt like nothing he could say could really properly convey how he was feeling in that moment.

Griffin's face lit up with a brilliant smile, and he knew that Griffin understood what he meant perfectly. “Me too. Me too.” He passed Nick the mug of coffee, his fingers lingering a moment more than they needed to, and Nick didn't mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Other things I planned but never wrote: their last night, they camped by a lake. Skinny dipped. Ate ramen. Had feelings. After they got home, Nick sent Griffin an album with all the candid photos he'd taken of their trip, to remember it by.
> 
> Yeah.


End file.
